


Just two dudes on a log

by KeatsKeatsKeats



Category: 6 idiots, BBC Ghosts, ghosts - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 03:40:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19191172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeatsKeatsKeats/pseuds/KeatsKeatsKeats
Summary: I just wanted to see him happy, to be honest. Get the man a boyfriend.





	Just two dudes on a log

“Nice day, isn’t it, Private?” I questioned, sabring at the stalky and lifeless plants with my sword. 

It was quite a nice day. I’d say it was. The smell of honeysuckle and lavender from a nearby field seemed to overwhelm that of stannic blood and gunsmoke. With the much-loved kiss of the French sun upon each part of exposed skin (simply my neck, face, arms and ankles), and the gentle breeze from the left of me, I felt as if the war were a childhood game. It was as if the angels of the summer had made all of that strife and bone-cutting agony a simple misty nostalgia. In recollection, I had shot a Jerry the day before and was nearly the victim of a Panzer’s grenade. 

On a day so fine and such a contrast to all else, I could not have asked for finer company. People all around sat in groups, drinking, talking, smoking, reading- a number of things. We simply walked. He was taking me somewhere that he had found. The Private had said he would show me in a promise to not show anyone else, to that I agreed.

I was not so much in uniform, as it were. Simple brown cropped trousers- no puttees- suspenders and a white shirt. To hell with those old hobnail boots! I had found a pair of slightly-too-big brown oxfords hanging out of a bin in a nearby town. Thus, I took them and wore them. Still, life here was never without war, and in my pocket was a pistol and a pouch of ammunition, as well as a sabre.

Private Henry Angley was dressed rather less than I was. He wore a half-opened shirt, a pair of black shorts, and suspenders which he had only bothered to pull over one shoulder. I had been close to him since the war started- over that time we became closer than anyone else. Waltzing over the mat of whistling grass and dainty flowers in bare feet, he seemed to enjoy every second of life. Henry was quite a nice young man: curly brown hair, a slim and clean face, a few freckles and brilliantly blue eyes. Built, was he, like a real soldier- broad shoulders, a fine chest, just a tad bit shorter than me. 

“It is a nice day, and thank heavens we’re not on the front lines anymore,” each word came out from between roseate lips that were curled in a glistening and beautiful smile, and each word sounded as if it were pulled out of the darling air.

I often smiled at the thought of him, then proceeded to hate myself for it, but in his presence, it became clear that we two were the closest of friends. That day, I smiled without shame. As a response, I sighed, “It won’t last too long, Harry, we’ll be back before you know it.”

“Which is why I wanted to take you now!” took a step back to be by my side, for until then he continued to look over his shoulder to talk to me, or often even walked backwards. We were approaching a line of trees, which gave me a strange feeling until I realised we were heading away from German lines. That breeze simply whistled through the leaves and low hanging branches, and after a step in, it became clear that this was a forest.

Harry seemed to know where he was going, and I followed. After a while, when the light hit the foliage and ferns on the floor like rustling spotlights. When the sounds of conversation were replaced by birdsong and the flow of water, he looked at me. He did it often, from then on, he turned his head to the side to take a glance and then pointed out a direction. I saw it as nothing but a reaction to my reaction, though I made sure to smile.

Of course, I would smile in his presence.

“Are we lost, Harry?” I asked after a while of walking, to which he shook his head.

“If you aren’t happy, Cap, we can go back.”

“I’m happy, Henry. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Here,” he declared at long last. It was quite beautiful. A fallen log beside a lake. Morning light seemed to melt into the water as the smell of plant life and flowers of all sorts filled the still air. Compared to war, it was a beautiful sight.

He gestured for me to sit on the log, to which I agreed. It was a rather stable thing although bark did break off in my hand when I used it as a prop to lean back. Harry joined me with a slightly embarrassed laugh and grin. He sat beside me.

After a while of taking in the scenery and telepathically communicating the brilliance and beauty, he spoke. In a rather more timid voice than he had ever heard before, he asked my name. I turned my head, seeing hearts.

“After the war, when this is all over, where will you go?” 

“Christ, I don’t know, Harry. I could go anywhere. Home, maybe…” I thought, almost wistful.

“You could come with me, Cap. I might go back to drama school or something, but I could rent an apartment in London, and you could stay there-”  
“With you?”

“I mean… well… You don’t have to…”

As a sort of spur of the moment I placed his hand in mine, “I have an estate in the country, you could always stay with me.”

“How would I work?”

“I’ll have enough for two lifetimes, which works out well, doesn’t it?” At this point, at my own flirtations, I was bright red and plastered with a goofy and apprehensive smile.   
He thought for a minute, biting his lip, before he sighed, “I don’t want to be a burden, darling-” he stopped himself.

“Did you just call me darling, Harry?”

“...Maybe…”

“That’s fine… I rather like it. Shall I give you one?”

He bowed his head and laughed, before raising it again with the most remarkable look of wonder, love and simply, of being flustered. As if a sign from heaven above, he nodded. I, still holding his hand, decided to hold it between both of my hands, and stuttered, “That’s alright, angel.” A name was picked due to the inspiration of the divinity of the whole scene. We talked some more, and he soon had his head on my shoulder in a summer’s slumber. 

It must have been the best day of my life- the only day I truly accepted myself and threw normality to the wind. I embraced the Hyde in my Jekyll, but yet find myself unable to do such a thing now.


End file.
